Are You Lonesome Tonight?
by onceuponahuntingtrip
Summary: (Megstiel AU) Meg Master's father works for Robert Singer, one of the wealthiest men in the auto industry. When her mother discovers that he has three sons, she tries to secure her a match with one of them. Clarence Singer catches Meg's eye, but his prejudice and hostile manner turn her off. When the two get forced together however, sparks fly.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is an AU fanfic. The characters are younger, and in another setting and time period, so naturally they aren't going to be exactly the same as in the show. I really hope you enjoy this fanfic. Please drop a review and let me know what you think.**

~()~

The cigarette she held to her lips was hardly satisfying. Mostly because she smoked so often that it had become as natural as breathing itself.

She tucked a strand of her rich dark hair behind her ear and leaned up against the brick siding. It was a chilly October evening, and her breath came out in little white puffs. The day had gone like any other. Work all day, and smoke away the night. At only nineteen years of age she was ready to throw in the towel.

Her father would be home soon enough, and if her mother caught her smoking she would be dead before nights end. She let the cigarette drop and crushed it under her heel before rushing inside and into the kitchen.

The house was cold and dark, as usual. Her mother had prepared no dinner, but instead sat in the parlor, a compress over her eyes.

"Oh Meg, darling. I'm glad you're home. Would you be a dear and start dinner? Your father will be home any minute and I haven't been feeling well."

Meg rolled her eyes. Ever since she could remember, she had been taking care of the household. Her mother sat around and flipped through catalogs, pining after the fancy life she was sure she was supposed to have.

Meg headed to the kitchen where she turned on the lights and started rummaging through the fridge, searching for something that would make a suitable dinner. Her muscles ached from a long day of working at the barber shop and taking an extra shift at the diner, but she ignored the low throbbing of her muscles and continued to work.

Settling on meatloaf, she gathered up all the ingredients and began cooking. The kitchen filled with light and warmth,and the decadent smells of a good home cooked meal whenever Meg was around. Something about her brightened places. Because even though she felt she couldn't escape the darkness in herself, something about her strove to bring light to everyone else.

She heard her father before she saw him, the stomping of his boots and rustling of him hanging up his _Singer Auto _jacket at the door were welcome noises.

She remembered a time where she dreaded those sounds. A time when the sound of his voice sent chills of fear down her spine. But that was years ago. And now that he had been sober and his hands had become gentler, she was almost happy to have him home.

As her little family sat around the dinner table, Meg tried to pretend that it wasn't terribly awkward. Her parents tried to make small talk, but they had drifted so far apart that talking about anything deeper than the weather was like pulling teeth.

"So," Her mother began, poking at the meatloaf with her fork and glancing up at her husband. "How was work, Bill?"

"It was alright." He replied, before scooping another bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Meg ground her teeth together. She hated this. Hated that her parents were so weird. Don't married people _talk _to each other?

Her father cleared his throat. "I almost forgot, I have some news, Lana."

Lana looked up, her eyes going from her daughter to her husband, an eagerness shining in them.

_She's most likely hoping the news is about money, _Meg thought bitterly. Not that she herself didn't want to have a better life, but her mother's constant hunger for money made the thing detestable in her eyes.

Her father leaned back in his chair. "Robert Singer's moved back to town."

Lana's eyes widened. "The _owner_? I thought he moved east to start a new chain of businesses?"

"He did." Her husband replied. "But he's decided to settle here for now. And hes brought his sons with him. You remember the little ragamuffins he adopted? I guess they're all doing well in business now. His wife Ellen is well too. He and I talked for quite some time today. He know's we're short on work so he's sending his sons to fill in until we get enough employees."

Lana seemed to have lost interest when the news wasn't about money. But after a moment, her eyes brightened. "Darling, Bill, how old are Roberts sons?"

Bill scratched his chin. "Hm. Well. His oldest Dean is twenty four. And Sam and Clarence are both 20 I believe."

Meg looked at her mother who was trembling with excitement. "Meg. Darling. Go get some beauty sleep. In the morning we're going to visit some friends."

She had an idea what her mother was up to, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night Lana flitted around Meg like a hummingbird, straightening her daughter's dress and gathering her hair into an elegant updo. She hadn't paid this much attention to Meg...ever. Meg found herself wondering if this is what it was like to have an old lady who was actually invested.

Lana was so obsessed with obtainting more money that she barely paid attention to her daughter or her husband.

Meg would see her friend's parents taking them out places. Joking around with each other as if they were friends and not relations. And sometimes, she would imagine what it would be like if her Father wasn't a mean drunk with a tendancy to hit, and her mother wasn't a dissatisfied housewife always looking for money.

"Darling we're going out to dinner with the _Singers_. You have to look your best! Now stop squirming." Lana said, pulling Meg from her thoughts.

"Mom." She breathed out, irritated beyond belief. "How exactly did you manage to pull this off?"

Lana looked her daughter up and down. "Well. My first thought was to invite them over for dinner, but no. That wouldn't do. Our house it too shabby. Well, nevermind." She waved her hand in a dismissing manner and continued.

"So, I convinced your father to invite them out to dinner. It's a wonder they accepted the invitation." She sighed and looked away dreamily. "But, they seem to have really taken a liking to your father. Alright. You can look now Darling."

Meg turned slightly and gazed at her reflection. She almost didn't recognize the woman who looked back at her.

Her dark hair was swept up in to a bun, curly tendrils falling to frame her face. Her eyeliner was black as night, and her eyelashes long and thick with mascara. One thing paled in comparison to the starkness of her other makeup: her lips. Pale and pink, they didn't go with the rest of her appearance. She reached into her bag and pulled out a tube. She pushed up the lipstick and looked at it for a moment.

It was bright red.

_Blood red. _

But if she was going to do this, she was going to look the part. She smoothed it onto her lips. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to get one of the Singer boys to fall in love with her after all. Living a life of luxury would be nice. She didn't want to live in the middle her whole life.

Her mother came and stood beside her. "Promise me you'll put on that charm of yours." She said, placing her arm around her daughters' shoulder.

"Now Meg, Peach, I want you to try for Dean. Your father said that he's the oldest. He'll probably inherit most of the company and fortune when Robert dies. I don't care what he looks like. I don't care if he's balding. Go for Dean, alright?"

Meg turned to face her Mother. "Listen to me, I know how to work men. I could have any one of the three that I wanted. But if you think you're picking which one I'm going for, you're crazy. Last time I checked, it's me who's going to be stuck with this guy for the rest of my life, not you. So I'll pick whichever one of the three I well please. Dig?"

For once in her life, Lana was speechless. She looked at her daughter for a moment before standing up. Laughing nervously she said, "Well. I. I better go and, uh. Get myself ready." And with that she fled the room.

~()~

The restaurant was the nicest that Meg had ever been to. it just seemed to ooze "_R__ich"._ She took a deep breath and straighened her posture. The Singer family would be arriving at any moment.

And, as if she had willed them to appear by thinking of them, Robert came striding toward their table, his arm interlocked with his wife Ellen's. Trailing behind them were three _very _handsome young men.

_Well, _Meg thought, _I don't have to worry about _which one _I go after. They're all sharp._

The tallest one of the Singer boys reached for her hand. "I'm Sam." he said. He was tall. No, he was _huge _but had a smile like a little boy, and shaggy dark hair. Meg couldn't help but wonder if he was a hippie. Probably not, but if he was, that could be _interesting. _She smiled slightly at the thought, but tried to regin herself in.

"These are my brothers. Dean," He said, motioning to his left at the one with a smattering of freckles and dark green eyes.

"-and Clarence." Meg drew in a sharp breath. Dean and Sam were attractive, sure. But Clarence was simply...breath-taking.

His chocolate brown hair was swept across his forehead, complimenting the cobalt blue of his eyes. He had a strong jaw, and a slight squint to his luminous eyes that was both attractive and intimidating.

Dean took her hand and planted a kiss upon it, before allowing his brother to have his turn.

Clarence shook her hand and muttered a "Nice to meet you." But looked utterly uninterested.

As soon as they were all seated, the awkward small talk began. Lana and Bill discussed business with Robert and Ellen, and swapped stories of their glory days, while Meg and the boys awkwardly tried to find _anything_ they had in common.

After their meal, Lana was whispering with Ellen, and Robert and Bill seemed to be in a heated converstion.

Dean took care of most of the talking during dinner, discussing everything from the music he liked, to the work he did. Sam would join occasionally, but Clarence remained silent.

He was all good looks and stony silence. Meg couldn't even remember what his voice sounded like.

When finally the awkward dinner was over, Clarence leaned over and whispered in Deans ear. Dean nodded and stood up. He placed a hand on his Dad's shoulder. "We're heading out now. Gonna try fix up Clancy's car before tomorrow."

Clancy? Was that supposed to be a nickname for Clarence?

Meg fidgited in her seat. She had barely made any progress with any of the boys. The night couldn't be over yet!

Sam stood and nodded toward Bill and his wife. "It was pleasant having dinner with you." Clarency nodded in agreement and they all went to leave.

"Wait, boys!" Lana exclaimed, standing up and smoothing her blonde hair down. "My daughter knows quite a bit about cars. Perhaps she should tag along?" She laced her hands together and smiled sweetly.

Robert nodded. "There's an idea. It's about time our kids got to know each other."

Meg's eyes darted from the boys, to her mother. Lana looked giddy, Dean looked like he was itching to go, Sam looked like he didn't care, but Clarence's eyes were wide, almost fearful.

Meg had to stifle a laugh._ He's terrified of_ me. She thought.

"Well." Dean said, clearing his throat. "Let's go then. One of us will bring her home tonight."

~()~

When they pulled up to the auto shop, all the boys filed out of the car and straight into the garage.

Meg jogged after them. "So much for 'ladies first'." She said when she caught up with them.

Dean turned and looked over at her, amusement sparkling in his green eyes. "Listen, uh _Meg. _It's real great that your Pops taught you how't change a tire. But that doesn't qualify you to work in an auto shop."

"No Freckles." She said. "It doesn't. But I know enough to know that this hot rod right here is all show and and no go." She placed a hand on her hip and leaned slightly toward Clarence. "Unlike your brother here Deano. I'll bet he's show _and _go." She placed a hand on Clarence's muscular chest and gave it a pat.

His blue eyes grew wide as he stared at her. She gave him a wink. "Cas here isn't much of a talker is he?" She winked again at him, and he turned away.

"Cas?" Dean smirked. "What, is that supposed to be some kind of insult?"

She turned back toward the boys slowly. "No, imbicile. It's short for Clarence."

"That doesn't make any sense." Dean muttered. Meg smiled and then pulled her face into a fake pout.

"Aw, are you jealous that you didn't get a cute nickname? Sorry Dean ol' boy, I just like Cas a little more."

Clarence disappeared back into the hood of the car, trying to hide the redness of his face. Meg was so bold. So much different from the quiet, timid girls he'd spent time with in the past.

"You sweet on my little brother, Meg?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at her and trying to make her feel as uncomfortable as she was making Clarence.

"Hey, give her a break." Sam interjected, giving Dean a insistant look. Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever Samuel."

Meg sat back and watched, silenty giving her input as to what they should be doing. She'd spent her whole life around cars, and those boys were looking too deep. All Cas' car needed were some new brakes. She could tell my the smell.

"You're lookin too hard boys." She called out from her spot, sitting atop of a pile of tires.

"Used to working harder jobs probably. Cas' ol car here just needs new brakes."

Cas and Dean shared a look. How was it possible that they had missed something this easy? Meg smiled smugly and settled back onto her seat on the tires and watched as the boys fixed the problem with the car.

"Okay, well. Time for you to go home." Cas said bluntly.

"He speaks!" Meg exclaimed, standing up next to him. "I was starting to worry that you didn't know how."

Dean smirked and Sam looked disapproving.

"Come on. I'll take you home." Dean said, waving for Meg to come and stand by him.

"Well," Meg replied, looking over at Clarence, "I think he should take me home, since he's in such a rush for me to be gone."

Dean and Sam shared a look. Even though she didn't have any siblings, she knew what that look meant. It was the 'do it because he doesn't want to and it'll be hilarious' look.

"Yeah _Cas._" Dean said, with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Take your lady love home. oR would you rather have an hour with her first?"

Clarence looked at his brother like he wanted to murder him.

"Come on." He said, walking in front of Meg. She turned and looked at Sam and Dean who were making gestures at Cas. She rolled her eyes, suddenly glad she didn't have any siblings.

She climbed into the passenger seat, and he slid into the driver's seat, his whole body tense. She could actually feel the irritation coming off of him in waves.

This was going to be quite the interesting ride.


	3. Chapter 3

The silence was deafening as Clarence drove Meg home. But Meg couldn't help herself. She had to try and break the silence. She was so used to getting her way. All she had to do was speak in her low, sultry voice and watch men melt at her feet. But here she was, sitting in a car with a man who refused to look at her for longer than three seconds. And when he did, his handsome face was pulled into a scowl.

"Not much of a talker are you Cas?" She commented, looking at him, how he stared stoneily ahead, trying his best to ignore her.

Silence.

Meg sighed. A heavy, the-world-is-on-my-shoulders sigh.

"Stop the car." She said suddenly, her voice even. Clarence looked over at her before quickly putting his eyes back on the road. "What are you talking about."

"Stop the car right now, before I open the door and jump out into the street."

"Have you lost your mind?" Cas' voice was tight, his dark eyebrows knitting together on his forehead.

"Listen to me right now pretty boy. You obviously have no intention of getting to know me. And I refuse to drive home with a spoiled brat who has absolutely no manners. So stop the car and leave me here."

Clarence slowed the car and pulled over. Meg flung her door open and stepped out onto the wet pavement, crossing over to the closest sidewalk.

Begrudgingly, Clarence pulled the keys out of the ignition and followed her. It was dark out, the only light coming from streetlights and passing cars.

"Stop!" He called after her. She ignored him, and continued walking. It was only fair, after all he had ignored her all night.

"Meg you stop immedietly!"

She froze in her steps, turning slowly. "Never speak to me like that again. You can't command me to do anything. You aren't my bloody master."

"Bloody? What, did you suddenly become a Brit?"

Meg felt the blood rising to her face. No one had ever pushed her buttons like this man. Did he think he was that much better than her? Just because he happened to be adopted by the richest man in town, didn't entitle him to treat people like they were an inconvieniance.

"I very well could be British." She spat vehemently. "But you wouldn't know that, would you? Since you have made absolutely zero effort to get to know me today. You know what, I am sorry that I ever even entertained the idea of getting close to you, or your brothers, for that matter. You are all arrogant brats with a rich daddy and a free pass on life. Well I'm sorry Clarence Singer, but not everyone is raised in an ivory tower, sucking on a silver spoon while their daddy pays people to be their friends."

Clarence looked like he had been slapped. And he had been, verbally at least. Meg took a breath, just as he began to speak.

"What makes you think my life has been easy?" Clarence replied, his voice sounding like a brewing storm. He looked intimidating, angry, but Meg had a knack for noticing the little things about people. Their tells. It came in handy in gambling. Like now, she noticed how he dug the nail of his thumb into his first finger, leaving a red crescent mark when he lifted his thumb. She noticed how his left cheek was pulled slightly inward, he was biting it. Most likely a habit he'd had all his life. He was more than just angry. She had pushed all the right buttons.

_Good _She though. _Let him get a taste of his own medicine._

"My life, may seem easy to you," He began. "But just because I have money, doesn't mean a thing. And who do you think you are? You think I don't see through you? I know women like you Meg. You honestly think I don't know what you're after? You don't care about me, or my brothers. You care about money. You throw yourself at us, hoping for a chance at the inheritance, but guess what?" He thrust his hands into the air and laughed bitterly. "My brothers are engaged. Both of them. And if you think that you're going to get in the middle of one or both of their relationships, you are wrong. And I will never, ever give in to you. So leave me and my family alone."

"Where is this coming from?" Meg exploded. "I have done absolutely nothing except go to dinner with my family, and like it or not Clancy old boy, our families are friends. You have no reason to treat me like this. I haven't made any advances towards you or your brothers, you self centered brat. Who is to say that I would even want to be with you?" She laughed, her bitterness matching that of his.

They stood there, staring at each other, heat growing between them like a fire. Meg reached up, and slapped his cheek, hard.

He looked taken aback. But he didn't move. Not an inch, he just stared at her. His blue eyes boring a hole through her soul. The fire between them roared stronger. Without warning, Clarence pulled Meg to him, kissing her with urgency. The kiss burned with anger and passion and everything that shouldn't feel right in a kiss, and yet it did.

She pulled away for a moment before moving back into him. He gently pushed her forward so her back was against the brick wall of the building behind them. Kissing her as if her lips werethe oxygen that he needed to survive. And just as abruptly as it had begun, the kiss was over.

The sky rumbled, the already dark sky becoming darker as the storm clouds flooded like black waves in the sky.

"You aren't walking home in this." Clarence said. He looked at Meg, who matched his gaze. She was much shorter than him, but when she stood up straight, her shoulders square and gaze unwavering- she was almost as intimidating.

"You just try and stop me."

And then, she was gone.

Cas pulled into the driveway and ran his hands through his dark hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the leather of the seat.

He tried to block it out, but all he saw when he closed his eyes, was her. With her dark silky hair and doe like eyes. All indignation and spunk. He cursed himself for letting her charms work on him. But had they? She hadn't been putting on an act then. She'd looked like she hated him. And in that moment, he felt like he deserved it, and like he hated her too. So why. Why had he been the one who had initiated that kiss? It had been all him, and he hated himself for it, and hated that no one was to blame but him.


	4. Chapter 4

"What's lit a fire under you, little brother?" Dean teased, watching as Clarence vigorously scrubbed his car. He dipped the rag in a bucket of soapy water and continued to scrub his car, not even looking up.

Dean walked over and stood behind him. "Careful you don't scrub all the paint off." He commented. Clarence spun around to face him, looking none too pleased. Dean had always been the joking type, and it had never bothered him before. All throughout their childhood he had managed it, but he was already on edge, images of Meg swirling through his head, thoughts of their kiss nearly driving him insane.

"Leave me alone, Dean." He said finally, breaking the stony silence. "Doesn't Jo need you for wedding planning or something?"

Dean smirked. "She's handling that just fine by herself, thank you very much. So," He said with a raise of his brows. "I'm guessing your date with that little firecracker didn't go to well. Well that's probably a good thing. She isn't exactly the type of woman we want to be associated with."

"It wasn't a date." Clarence muttered ignoring the last part of his brother's sentence.

"Did you make out with her?" He looked at his brother, his green eyes full of mischief. "You did!" He exclaimed when he didn't respond. He slapped Clarence's back. "Way to go, Clancy!" He shook his head as if he couldn't believe that his innocent brother, the goody two shoes of the family, would be making out with a girl like Meg.

Clarence shook his head, and finally found his voice. "It wasn't like that, Dean. We didn't _'make out' _. It was just a kiss. A stupid, mistake of a kiss."

"Of course it was. Just a fling. I get it...Were her lips soft?"

"Dean-"

"Well were they?"

Clarence sighed. "Yeah, I guess they were." He admitted. "I don't want to talk about it anymore okay? Yes, her lips were soft, yes I enjoyed it, but it was a heat of the moment kind of thing, and its not going to happen again. Ever."

Dean grinned and shook his head. "Want to bet?" He reached in the pocket of his leather jacket like he was going to pull out money.

"Dean, I'm not twelve. I am not going to make a _bet_ with you about whether or not I will kiss a girl."

"That's because you know I'm right."

"I'm done talking about this." Clarence said. He picked up the bucket of soapy water, about to head back to the house. He heard Dean calling after him.

"Have your fun, but don't take things to far little brother. You don't want to end up roped in marriage to her instead of a proper girl."

~()~

Ellen was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup on the stove. "What's wrong, honey?" She asked, noticing the irritated look on her sons face.

"Nothing I just... had a rough night last night."

Ellen nodded. "That Meg girl sure is something isn't she?" She commented innocently as she continued to stir the thick brown stew with a wooden spoon.

"I guess. Anyway I came in here to tell you I'm heading out. I'm going to the barber for a shave."

"To the barber?" Ellen said. "Okay Hon. Will you be home for dinner?"

When Clarence assured her he would, she kissed him on the cheek and sent him off.

~()~

Meg was busy sweeping the floor of the empty barber shop, when she heard the ring of the doorbell.

"Can you get that, Meg?" Her boss called from the back where he was taking a break for a cigarette. She looked up from the dustpan only to see Clarence standing in front of her.

"You've got to be kidding me." Clarence groaned. Meg held back a groan of her own, but made absolutely no effort to put on the charm like she normally would.

Clarence turned to go but Meg's boss came striding in from out back. "Where you going Lad? Sit down! You look in need of a nice shave. Meg here will be happy to give you one, won't you, Meg?"

She didn't move, or make a sound. Her boss looked at her expectantly.

"Well?"

Meg cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes. Of course. Right to it." Her face was already turning red. She didn't want to give this pompous man anything, let alone be stuck alone with him in close quarters, giving him a shave.

Her boss slithered back outside with another cigarette as she neatly laid out the shaving kit beside her, and grabbed some warm towels for Cas' face.

"I'm not exactly sure I trust you with a razor at my neck, Miss Masters." Clarence commented coolly. Meg's brown eyes glimmered, she tilted her head and smiled. "Well Darling, I'm not exactly sure that you should."

Despite his comments, Clarence leaned back in the chair. Meg swiped some cream onto the brush and let it glide across his cheeks and swoop down onto his neck with gentle strokes. He closed his eyes as a shiver ran down his spine. Every move she made was like a dance, but how? How could she make something as simple as a shave feel like she was seducing him?

_What is wrong with me? _He thought. _I am not attracted to her._

Meg switched her angle, and took out the razor, slowly dragging it across his face in short movements. He clenched his jaw so tightly he thought surely his teeth would break. _Swipe, swipe, swipe._ Every move of the razor seemed to go with a beat of his heart. This was the strangest thing. No girl had ever made him feel like this, so why was he becoming weak-kneed at something as simple a _shave_?

Finally she was done, and pressed the warm towel onto his face, when he opened his eyes, her face was only inches away from his.

A million thoughts ran through Clarence's mind in that moment. Thousands of different scenarios. He tried to restrain himself, but something about Meg just made him lose all control. Just like the night before, some power of hers swept over him. Without another thought he had shot forward and pressed his lips to hers, all his anger and confusion disappearing into a long kiss.

He pulled her onto the chair so she was sitting on his lap and continued to kiss her, his hands entwined in her dark silky hair. They paused for a breath, and Meg sat back, looking at him.

"What was that?" she said, finally. Scrambling to get off the chair and stand up. She was in shock and still on a bit of a high from the kiss.

"I don't know." Clarence groaned."I'm sorry." He said, and stood up to go.


	5. Chapter 5

Clarence walked quickly, his shoes pounding on the pavement like the blood pounded in his head. What was _wrong _with him? He had completely let himself lose control, had let all of those molten feelings for her rise to the surface. It was true and he couldn't deny it, he was attracted to her. He heard footsteps behind him and slowly came to a stop. He should have known she wasn't going to let him get away with it that easily.

Slowly, he turned and faced her. She looked even more beautiful than before, her face flushed from chasing after him wispy little curls escaping from her loose up-do and clinging to her forehead.

She just stood there, looking at him for a moment. "What was that?" She asked finally.

He stared at her his jaw twitching slightly. "I...don't know."

"I think you and I have some talking to do, Lover Boy." Her honey-dripping voice was back, and that fiery twinkle in her eyes. "You get all fired up when I'm giving you a shave, you give me all these _sweet_ lil kisses and then just run off?" She wagged her finger in his face, _back and forth, back and forth_ and made a little _tsk tsk _noise with her mouth.

"I don't think so. So, explain to me what exactly you think you're doing."

His blue eyes boring into her. She faltered for a moment, glancing at the ground for a second before matching his gaze.

"Drop the act Meg. Drop it." His voice was firm, like a parent reprimanding a child. She stared to protest but he continued talking. "This whole thing has been a giant mess from beginning to end. I'm attracted to you, obviously and I want to hate you. I wish so much that I could just walk away and never see you again, but I can't. I'm being honest with you, so please. Drop the Betty act and show me the real Meg."

Now it was her turn to set her jaw. Her eyes watered as she looked away from him. "You don't want to know the real Meg."

The entire atmosphere of the moment, of their entire _relationship_: changed with those words. She wasn't looking at him now, but hesitantly he reached for her hand. Yanking it away quickly, she didn't realized that her sleeve raised above her wrist. Only slightly, but enough for him to see the dark jagged scar. Following his gaze, she knew what he'd seen. Meg was so mortified she was struck still, unable to move from her spot in front of him. She wanted to run. So badly she wanted to run away from him and never see him again. But it was too late. He had already seen it.

Gently he took her wrist in his hand, skimming his thumb across it, gentle as a feather. She heard him take in a sharp breath, and he looked up her inquisitively. She was silent for a long time.

Lifting her wrist up ever so gently, Clarence placed a soft kiss against her scar. She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. Where was the "What on earth is this?" the "How'd you get that scar?" where were the flying accusations and reprimands? Instead he just stood there, his lips pressed against her wrist, his blue eyes hidden under his thick lashes.

There was nothing on his face except for a touch of sadness. He wrapped his arm around her waist line, pulling her against his sturdy chest. "I'm sorry." He said, his raspy voice vibrating through his chest and against hers. "The last thing you need is something else to make you miserable. I'm sorry I was such an-"

"It's alright." She interrupted. They stood just like that; locked in each other's embrace, on the pavement in front of a record store, not caring how long they stood there. For in moments like that, time is nothing more than a word.

~()~

"Are you going to sit here all night?" Meg raised an eyebrow at Clarence, who sat on one of the barber chairs, reading a newspaper.

He shrugged and put the paper down on his lap. "I thought I'd stay here with you until closing and then walk you home."

"That's sweet." She replied with a soft smile, a _real _smile. "But I'm not going home after this. I'm working at the diner tonight. Normally I only work there three nights a week, but someone needs me to cover them tonight."

Clarence tried to keep his face expressionless, but Meg knew how to read people. It was almost like she could read his mind.

"Don't feel sorry for me, Cas. I like working."

He raised an eyebrow. Although he didn't doubt that she was a hard worker, you could clearly see she was already exhausted. More hard work and she would be worn to the bone.

"Then I'll come with you at the diner. And take you home after that."

Meg looked up at him, surprised. "Cas, honestly. I'll be working until after midnight. I'm not gonna have you stay with me for hours. Go home, little lost puppy. I'm not going to disappear into thin air. You can come see me tomorrow." A look of doubt passed over her face. "If you want to, of course."

Clarence stood there and she could tell that he wanted to stay, but she shooed him out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He said, pausing at the door. She grinned. "Tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N There is mention of abuse/self harm in this chapter. Just a warning.**

Meg blew a strand of her dark curls out of her face and put on another pot of coffee. The delicious scent wafted through the air. _I might just pour me a cup._ She thought as she surveyed the place.

The diner was pretty dead tonight. Only two teenagers sitting in the back (lost in each others face, she might add.) and an old man sipping his coffee and reading his newspaper. She was working for another hour, and then she could go home, but she was hardly sure she would be able to make it another hour.

She was about to pour herself a cup of coffee when the door of the diner opened, a little bell tinkling to let her know there was a new customer. A tall dark haired man wearing a tan trenchcoat stepped in.

"Clarence! What are you doing here?" She exclaimed. She put her hand on her hip and pretended to be upset, but really she was happy to see him.

"Good morning."

"It isn't morning, Cas."

Clarence cleared his throat and looked at the clock. "Close enough. It's after midnight, after all."

She rolled her eyes and leaned over the counter. "Is there anything I can get you _Sir_? Since I'm supposed to be working?"

"I suppose a kiss isn't on the menu, is it?" He looked up, mischief in his blue eyes. Meg smirked and shook her head. "I think you've had enough of those."

"I could never have enough." He said.

She took the coffee pot and poured them both steaming mugs of coffee. He sat there on a stool, and she leaned over the counter. And they just _looked at each other_.

"Why would you want a girl like me, Clancy?" She traced the rim of her cup with her finger and stared into her coffee, not daring to look into his eyes. She was trying so hard not to let her heart get invested in this man. Odds were he would leave her alone when he found out she had more issues than _Times._

"I don't know." He responded. "Because you're beautiful? Because you challenge my ego, my wit. You keep me on my toes Meg. Like no one ever has before. I was a very...indecent human being for a while. I didn't really know how to handle the emotions I was having for you. I didn't want them. But I want you to know that I am sorry. And I am going to try as hard as I can to prove to you that I'm not the rude, stoic, standoffish man I acted like."

He reached over the counter and took her hand. "Can I drive you home after work?"

Meg smirked. "Wow, you got real polite real quick." She nodded. "Sure, you can drive me home. But I still have about forty-five minutes until I can go."

Cas stayed with her until her shift ended, and waited outside for her to change.

He took her arm when she came out, leading her to his car. It was chilly and dark, most of the shops closed and people sleeping.

They climbed into his car and he started it up, turning the heat on. Meg warmed her hands in front of the vents as Cas pulled onto the road.

She leaned over and switched on the radio, music streaming from the speakers. A Johnny Cash song was playing and Meg settled back into her seat.

She listened to the song, leaning back in her seat, when she heard soft singing beside her.

She closed her eyes and listened to his raspy, angelic voice singing along to Johnny. Her heart swelled in her chest as she peeked at him, his eyes set on the road, lips moving to the country song. He was so different from any other man she'd ever known. She didn't point out that he was singing, just in case he stopped. He caught her eye and smiled before focusing back on the road.

"I don't particularly want to go home." She blurted.

He looked over at her for a second. "Then don't."

He missed the turn to her house and drove back onto the main road. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere."

"i suppose not home with me?"

She saw the grin puling at his lips and she swatted at him playfully. "Oh why not? You already have a horrid image anyway. Why not just lose all my pride?"

"So that's a no." He added. "Alright. Let's just drive somewhere, and see where the road takes us."

They drove in silence for a while, country songs playing softly in the backgroud like a track to their little roadtrip.

"You like driving?" She asked, watching the dark scenery pass by in blur outside her window.

"Yeah, it comes from my brother Dean I suppose. When we were kids, before Dad's business got really big, we were on the road all the time. We were on the road a lot, and when we got older it was just Dean, Sam and I doing the traveling. Dean loved it, Sam just wanted to settle down somewhere," He laughed and passed a hand over his face. "I was just a wide-eyed kid, who looked up to Dean more than anyone. He loved driving and the trips, so I did too. But I really came to love it on my own, after a while."

"That's beautiful." She said, "So you and Dean-o are really close huh?"

"Yeah. What about you? Do you have any siblings?"

She tensed up, and Clarence could feel it. "I'm sorry." he said. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, that's okay." She said. "I had brother. He was a lot older than me. Ten years or so. He left whe things got really bad with my dad's drinking an' all. You know." She laughed a bitter sort of laugh. "I just, always had thought of him as my protector. Like Dad would never hurt me if Tom was there to protect me. But instead he left in the middle of the night. It's pretty sad how I always thought he'd come back for me."

"Meg I..." He didn't know what to say. He'd never experianced anything like this and he didn't know how to help. It made him so _angry _that he couldn't help her. Go back in time and protect her from her coward of a father.

His blood was firey in his veins. He pulled over onto a little dirt road, the gravel crunching under the tires as the car rolled to a stop.

He undid his seatbelt and pivoted in his seat to look at Meg. He reached over and lifted her hand from her lap.

He looked up at her, he was asking her permission, she knew. Slowly she nodded and he slid the thin fabric of her sleeve upwards, revealing her wrist.

She knew he wanted answers as he stared at the scar on her wrist, gently carressing it with his thumb.

"I was sixteen." She started, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." she cut him off. "I was sixteen." She repeated. "And he came home stupid drunk. Normally it was just a slap or two, and then he'd pass out. But that night it was worse than ever."

She turned in her seat and lifted her shirt baring her milky white back, covered in long thin upraised scars, and small circiular ones. Pulling her shirt down, she settled back into her seat.

"His hands didn't do the job well enough I guess. So then there was the belt." She said quietly. "When that wasn't enough, it was his cigarettes."

Another shaky breath was drawn in before she continued.

"I didn't want that to happen...ever again." Her eyes watered now, and she squeezed them shut, trying her hardest not to let one fall.

"I was helpless, defenseless. Everything hurt and I just wanted to be done." She laughed and lifted her hands up in surrender, the tears coming now.

"Tom was gone, mother would never help me, and life would go on like that forever until I could move out, and then what? Live on the streets? So I took one of his shaving razors and I..." a sob caught in her throat. She lifted her wrist. "I did this.

I thought I wanted to die but when I saw what I 'd done, I regretted it. I did the first thing I thought to do and went to my neighbor who was a nurse. She wanted to take me to the hospital but I begged her not to. She stiched the cut, but made me stay with her until morning.

When I got home, and he saw what he'd done to me, he cried. That was the first time I'd seen him cry. He quit drinking that day, and he's been trying to make it up to me ever since."

"I'll kill him." Cas said. His eyes alight with an angry fire. He said it so quietly she barely heard him.

"I've forgiven him, Cas. He was drunk when it happened, and he begged for my forgiveness. At first I- I didn't want to forgive him, but you know what? Life is short. And he's my father. I love him, and I forgive him."

He was trembling with emotion and anger. He'd seen a glimpse of how broken she really was, and now every thread that knit him together, was aching to put her back together again. Reaching over he pulled her light frame atop him, pulling her to his chest. She melted into his embrace, feeling his heart beat against hers as she lay there, his arms wrapped around her.

He held her tight relsihing in the softness of her body, the way she smelled of coffee grounds and vanilla, and wishing that he would never have to let her go. She was strong, so strong, yet so fragile, and for that he loved her, more than anyone he'd ever known. And he swore to himself in that moment, he would show her unconditional love. She would never feel alone in this world again.


End file.
